uncover our heads and reveal our souls
by b-isforblair
Summary: Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future. [Fin-centric/Maron, Chiaki]


**uncover our heads and reveal our souls****  
**Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.

—

In spring, the showers came, hurling  
Fast and godspent in light, winding  
Down the bullets came, spinning  
Drilled holes into woollen and linen, clothing  
Bombarded the humans, drowning.  
A life is cast, slight is lost  
In the end of the end nothing becomes real  
Real disintegrates

Death is nothing  
Death is death.

* * *

Her heart stopped.

She was not plain, rather a beauty, nymphean allure and bedazzling enchantments (He stated it so). Still: _You're banished_, he said. Snarled it out clear and simple, smarting her across the face as the words flew—transformed—and gyrated like clipped talons.

He had been playing her all along.

And she had been stupid enough, naïve enough (_did you really think I was so gullible?_), everything not-perfect enough to believe him. Devoured His words like they were testaments of martyrdom and sainthood, she worshiped him. He was beyond mortal, beyond the petty adversities and afflictions of human hurts and—

(and nothing)

She was left with nothing (resentment rising). He didn't pause to care, never did. And it was time for Fin to wake up and understand: the world is not a fairytale. But—

The world was ugly and dark and ferocious in its abilities to deceive (what they euphemistically called "romancing the girl") and abandoned the innocents to suffer.

"But I'm the victim here!"

Hell fire and reprisal. She understood loathing better than anyone else. In that instant, Fin stopped breathing. Heart simply died.

(And there was no more room for love.)

* * *

Early morning, Maron rose and welcomed the dawn with a head held high, inhaling fresh air and health. She envisioned and ideal world of love and peace, _and light_. A world that never knew sorrow or death or the aftermath of tragedy. A world that was forever round, unmarked—no understanding disease and ugly.

_In an ideal world…_

(she devoured Utopia by the pages and thought: if only she were stronger)

A small creature knocked softly from the other side of her window. Maron jolted into reality, and a new morning began.

_Hello. _

"My name is Fin Fish and I came in search of you, _Maron Kusakabe_. It is nice to finally meet you. "

"What are you and how can _I _help you?"

"In order to become a pure angel, god send me to encourage and support you to defeat the evil and strengthen His powers. Long ago, Satan who wanted to make the earth his, found that God could be weakened by using the beauty of art in the human world to his own purpose. He destroys the beautiful minds of humans and steals their souls which are the source of strength of God and therefore, if it continues unchecked, He will die."

"And what has that to do with me?"

—dramatic pause (cause and effect) —

"The only one who can collect the demons concealed by Maou within the hearts of pure souls is _you_ Maron, the reincarnation of Jeanne d'Arc."

(she was young but exhausted, a woman who carried the weight of the world on delicate pearl-wings.)

"All right."

* * *

Fin never expected it, that he would offer her a partnership in (this devil-slaying, hell-brining) his "business". She never dared to investigate the specifics but had an awful, nasty sensation prickling her skin. That it was something like suicide.

But she agreed to stay (for now) because the sound of his voice—when he asked, subtly brimming with loneliness and alluring darkness—just damn near tore her heart apart. If she had a heart.

Remember: devils didn't cry, and devils didn't feel.

* * *

"Your mission is complete, goodbye Maron."

She'd be fine (Fin left an everlasting presence)  
She'd come back soon (Fin promised so)  
On the other side of the world: hello

"My mission is complete, your Infernal Majesty."

* * *

At the grocery store, Maron decided to buy her best friend a cake. An arbitrary epiphany, one she knew she appreciated.

Miyako favoured the petite and pretty ones. Pinkish and delicately lined with a rim of apricot jam. The top was scattered with cherry blossoms. And the inside tasted of a lost spring burgeoning post-winter-mortem.

As for Chiaki, he liked the plain ones best. _Perfection in simplicity_. And so, for him, she picked out the frosted white.

"I'll take three—no wait, four. One of that and that over there, the apple tart. Oh, and two of these."

(Couldn't forget Fin. She would chastise her for being forgetful.)

The saleslady wrapped up the cakes in silver foil and handed them over. She was humming a tune, dreaming along an unsung paradise.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

Maron nodded.

It really, truly was.

Three steps out the door, she fell. Dropped—nearly dead.

(every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.)

She was back.

* * *

When god was dead, the world would be fine. When god—that insatiable monster with gold-felt wings—was no more, she (steady now) would sleep. _Would breathe_. Slowly, quietly, deep in a vault somewhere hidden.

"There was nothing but hate for you in my non-existing heart, _Maron Kusakabe_."

Maron collapsed, shivering, fuming uncontrollably—as if gone berserk—and muffled her screams and tears with bitten flesh.

_Fin_.

(why?)

And god was the one with all the answers. And strangely, none.

* * *

_"Fin, please come back to me."_

She saw her face everywhere, haunted her even in barricaded sleep. The multi-changing, quick-stepped facades escaped reality and embedded themselves inside her head. She turned, and Maron followed suit. Neck tensed, raised back, legs moved swift, faster, _hurry_.

She laughed. Because this was no surprising, because this was _so_ like Maron (or she was all messed up-inside, nervous, drained—still like a marionette). "I have always hated you. There is no reason for me to come back."

"That is not true. You love me, just as I always have lo—"

And Fin looked at her cruelly and beautifully and full of the world's ugly. "_Shut _up!"

On the pillar of life, someone once wrote:  
There is no journey for love.  
Love ends when it begins.

"I have always loved you, _Fin_."

(_kill her_, his infernal majesty ordered)

_you could split someone down with one strike here  
and he'd never know what came  
flying_

(_i can't_, she cried protecting her)

And as beauty died, no one was there to witness it. It was a glorious death. It was a tragic death. Or a death that was recondite and wasteful.

But Fin was beautiful on her death day. In that austere, melancholic way of hers. Like the darkness has been filtered out, and she was a jewel shining (greatly). Shining white and porcelain.

Maron noted how pretty Fin looked.

(Dead too, but that was the part she didn't say. Aloud.)

_I'll miss you.  
_

* * *

In the process of reincarnation, Fin grasped the concept of life and death.

(saw the looming archways of heaven and hell)

And realized—

- death was death

- life was life

But in the world between worlds, there was no time, no air, no illusory differences, and no existence. She could become anything she wanted, _happy_.

"I pray to you God, _please_, let me atone for my sins."

(farewell kind friends whose tender care has long engaged my love.)

* * *

Years later he woke up (saw her next to him, asleep and beautiful) and didn't think she was so lonely anymore.

He questioned: was it him or was it her (that had changed). And responded: neither. Time went on—and _life_ went on. Went by past them without waiting to see if they were ready. Chiaki sank back onto the pillows and pulled her towards him. She mumbled incoherently, but wrapped her legs over his.

Love was resilient was stubborn was rebuilding itself from the ash-womb.

* * *

This was a good lesson:

Once upon a time (in a different life), she gave her heart away. Free (discount on Sundays) and willing and painfully bereft. And it had been so vicious, so callous. So _not-what-she-expected.  
_  
Learned:

The heart was resilient, strong, chemically fortified against the howling of poisonous luring.

She had come a long way since—

_And God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light._

"Wait, Shinji!"

_And God saw that the light was good._

—

god passed on the torch—  
scorched the world, died  
hot and panicked, eve received  
all-mighty power in all-tightening cowering  
from god to eve  
anew was a woman  
from god to eve  
pandora (with her 666 hands)

"the world was good again."

* * *

**A/N:** I re-watched and re-read it again and so this mix from anime and manga happened. And I apologize beforehand for any mistakes, because I didn't proofread again.


End file.
